


His Second Shot: Part 4

by thegreatficmaster



Series: His Second Shot [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring John Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Reader-Insert, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 02:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: John can’t get Y/n out of his mind and takes a risk.





	His Second Shot: Part 4

It had been a few weeks since I helped y/n out with his ex.

He went to his best friend’s house, Chelsea, the woman I saw him with at the bar that day.

For some reason, I was so disappointed he hadn’t asked to stay with me.

But why would he? 

I’d only known him for a few weeks at the time. 

Even I’d find it strange.

But I was infatuated.

Every single lecture, I just stared at him. 

The way his words flowed. The way he’d write on the board and hold the pen. The smiles that would light up the room. 

Each time, I’d melt within. 

I just couldn’t get him out of my mind.

Every move he made had me breathless and helpless to him, unable to keep my cool and flushing red, even if he wasn’t looking at me.

At home. At school. Anywhere I went, he was always the first thought I had.

I knew I shouldn’t rush into anything. 

Hell, I always was told by mom not to rush love with another. 

Take your time, get to know them, and see where it goes.

It’d been almost two months since we met.

We hadn’t gone on any dates.

Well, we’d gone out, but he never called them dates. 

We’d often go to the bar that I first saw him at, Chelsea coming with us. 

She was sweet, kind, and obviously loved y/n, seeing as she interrogated me when we first met.

I remember how y/n had to correct her and tell her we weren’t dating.

I admit, that hurt a little. 

We might not have been dating, but I sure as hell wish we were.

This was the only person I’d ever had feelings for, since Mary. 

I was slightly confused, seeing as he was a guy, and I’d never even thought about other dudes before.

But with y/n, I was desperate to make my move. 

Of course, following mom’s advice, I played it cool, taking it slow.

But then I saw the looks some other teacher gave him. 

I had no clue what the guy was called.

But when he came into class one time and started touching y/n’s arm, I knew I had to say something. And soon.

“So-what’s up?”

I gulped down the beer, my nerves making my body shake slightly.

I had no idea what was happening. 

I was John Winchester. 

Sure, I hadn’t asked anyone out in over eleven years.

But I was confident and headstrong. 

Well, I used to be. 

So why was the pit of self-doubt and anxiety growing inside me?

Taking a deep breath, I decided I needed to just get it out there.

“Goonadatewithme!”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at me, tilting his head slightly.

“What? Slow down, idiot. Say that again”.

I let out a sigh and closed my eyes, opening them to see y/n’s eyes staring into mine.

Was this a good idea?

What the hell was I thinking?

I was caught between what I was taught as a kid, and what I felt inside right now.

Should I resist it? Keep this platonic? Stay single for the rest of my life? 

Or should I go for it? Ask him out? Move on and be happy again?

I couldn’t hold back anymore and gave in to my urges.

“Go out with me. On a date. You and me only. No Chelsea. Just us”.

Y/n’s eyes widened, then softened after a few seconds, and I knew the answer right then.

“J-John. Yo-you’re a nice guy. You really are. But I-I’ve just broken up with Tom. I don’t have the time, or emotional capacity right now. A-and, there’s the school. I mean, you might be old enough, but there’re rules that would stop this. Us. I mean, I shouldn’t even be friends with you, to be honest. Let alone start dating you. I wish I felt differently, but I just don’t think that’d be a good idea. I-I’m sorry”.

I nodded, looking down at my empty beer bottle, wishing I could turn back time, the awkward atmosphere suffocating me.

“Don’t worry”, I croaked, grabbing my jacket and throwing some bills onto the counter, rushing out, despite y/n’s calls.

I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. 

He was a teacher. 

I was his student. 

I was old as hell, and he was a young guy with his whole life ahead of him. 

What the fuck would he want to do with a widower?

I got into the truck and was glad I’d only had two beers, not drunk enough that I’d be driving like a maniac.

I turned the keys and pulled out, looking into the mirror to see y/n walking to his car, regret and slight sadness on his face.

But I was sure the pain I was feeling was a whole lot worse right then.


End file.
